


Strangle Heart

by Sessaware



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Anxiety, Blood, Depression, F/M, Former One Shot, Hopeful Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Identity Reveal, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Mental Illness, Self-Harm, Support
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-30
Updated: 2016-03-11
Packaged: 2018-05-10 12:37:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5585629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sessaware/pseuds/Sessaware
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chat Noir finds that Ladybug has things to hide besides her name. Becoming his lady's support is now more important to him than ever, but so much more confusing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Mentally ill characters are very close to my heart. I don't know why, but this interpretation of Marinette is something I can't let go of. In the same way, Adrien's thought processes are also really important to me. Denial, confusion, heart ache, helplessness, determination, love, hope. In the end, though, I think they both get stronger.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this in some way or another.

His lady is the perfect woman. She's strong, fast, skilled, witty, confident. She's charming, inventive, and has more cleverness than could possibly be measured. More than that, she's supremely kind, and patient with everyone she meets, including him. Adrien, otherwise known as Chat Noir, knew he could be more than a handful after donning the mask.

From the first time they'd worked together, she had effectively swept him off his feet and now he simply couldn't get enough of her. She was every star in a pitch black night, the afternoon sun banishing heavy clouds away, a breath of clean air in the height of spring. He loves her, plain and simple, loves her enough to try and pursue her and enough to keep trying even when she keeps dismissing his advances.

"Ah, my lady, good to see you. As usual, your presence proves to make even the nicest sunny day all the better." He leaps down from the light post to meet her as she retracts her yo-yo.

"Good to see you, too, Chat." Ladybug smirks, "All that sun, you should watch not to get burned."

"Ah, so you do care." He sweeps her hand up to his lips, kissing the back before she pokes him on the nose and giggles.

"No time to play around, we have a city to look after." She says and leaps again into the air, a flash of her scarlet tool hooking ahead of her as she commands it and he follows behind before she gets too far.

Such is their routine, their patrols and bouts with agitated akuma-possessed people peppered with banter that he would love to push past just the borderline of flirty, but leading a double life has taught him nothing if not patience. He loves her truly, the girl who single handedly put an end to his repressed misery, who accepted him and befriended him and trusted him like no one else had ever done before.

He wants desperately to know her name, the face behind the mask, but her wants come first, always. His respect for her is too great to ever take away her choice. She's already chosen, after all, not to tell him who she is even though they've known each other so long and they work outstandingly well together. He doesn't know her reasoning, but Ladybug is too smart a person not to have a good one. At least that's his opinion.

Sometimes, though, rarely, he sees a look cross her face. It's an expression he's seen only a fraction of a second at a time, but it's one that makes his heart drop into his stomach and his face screw with worry. He isn't sure how to describe it. Something like fear but more jagged, like sadness but far deeper, and all at once. Again, it's there for not even a second and he might've even been able to think he was imagining things if not for the fact that, always, she leaves directly after every patrol or mission without more than a word of goodbye. 

"My lady?" He sees her turning away, her yo-yo in hand, ready to take off, "Ladybug?"

"Bye." He hears her say, almost a whisper, but she doesn't face him.

Her back tells him not to follow her more so than that one word. He's far more rebellious as Chat Noir. He wishes he could summon even a little bit of that disobedience to chase her silhouette instead of steering back towards the Agreste Manor.

Ladybug is strong. She is the epitome of confidence, of leadership and level-headedness. Adrien can't even imagine what causes such a woman, practically invulnerable, to make that expression. He asks Nino, headphones perched around his neck, about it without giving details to share his identity or hers. Nino looks at him sideways, lips pressed thin.

"I don't know, man. It's like play-dough or whatever, right? Change the shape to look however you want, it's still play-dough. I think it might be the same with people. A mask might make someone seem completely different than without it, but they're still the same." He answers.

Adrien doesn't really know how to reply to that, but thanks Nino all the same.

There are days when he's late to their meeting spot. He doesn't have the best luck and it isn't uncommon for him to get dragged into some situation or another that leaves him running behind. She's always waiting for him, though, looking out toward the west horizon to try and see his black mask and childish grin fly straight over from the usual direction. Most of the time, that's how it is except sometimes he's not coming from his house but somewhere else in the city and he'll see her like he doesn't have the chance to when she can glimpse him from far off. 

Framed by a melancholy sunset, Chat Noir watches her sit as still as a statue on the roof of a building. Her shoulders are slumped and her back is curved in a way that looks like weight upon weight is pushing down on her. Her eyes, bright blue like a clear sky, look flat and doll-like with her mind a million miles away. A place he can't reach her. 

Indeed, she often seems unattainable. 

Like a spell, she'll hear a rush in the wind and snap her gaze over to him, a warm smile and cloudless azure meeting his eyes and he grins and thinks it must have been nothing. The twinge in his heart says otherwise, but he's scared to do anything but ignore it for now. So he reaches for her hand and kisses the back in greeting before she pulls away and gives him that bell-like laugh and a roll of her eyes.

He'd do just about anything to see her smile. 

Hard truth hits him on what was otherwise an ordinary day. Lessons, fencing practice, photo shoots, feeding Plagg, an akuma attack just after lunch; it all goes down hill at that.

There's an errant villain running amok in the city, playing mind games with the people it sees and chasing off others that have the misfortune of crossing it's path. He and Ladybug are able to break the possessed object and purify it, but the bitter thing snatches the thread of revenge by muddling his lady's head in the last second. 

That look, the one he's seen only a handful of times for a second a piece, is frozen on her face as he carries her safely to the sanctuary of an abandoned theater. Her breathing is fast and heavy, her eyes are wide and terrified. Her hands press to her ears as though to either block whatever is making her suffer or to keep it from spreading. He hears horrible clicks, her teeth grinding, and her nails drive into her scalp. He tries to pull her arms away but she yelps at the contact and he flinches in shock. She's shaking like she's caught in a blizzard, muscles tight and knuckles bent. 

He's sick with worry and tries to get her to breathe normally but it seems she can't. When he tries to reach for her again, she clamors to her feet, swipes his staff and throws it into the rows of seats. She leaps into the air and swings with her yo-yo and he won't see her again until next patrol, two days from then.

He's left beside himself after reclaiming his staff. He can't follow her now, he's lost sight of her, but there's something he can't look away from anymore. He'd tried to hide it from himself, to believe it wasn't true, but his lady is in pain and he has no idea how to help her.

A cat in a bag, Adrien is disgusted that when they next meet he does as he always does: follow her lead. Usually it's a wise choice to do so, her strategy as impeccable as every other part of her is, but in this he knows that neither of them have control of the situation and he thinks that should warrant some new action from him but it doesn't. He doesn't know what to do. 

However, Ladybug smiles when he dramatically bows in greeting her and she chuckles when she twines words around his feet to make him trip and she rolls her eyes with a deliberate sigh when he makes a cat pun. He isn't sure if what he's doing, acting as if it hadn't happened, is the right thing to do but it seems to him that anything that can make his lady laugh can't possibly be all wrong. 

"Chat?" She says one night as they wind down on a roof top.

She's staring at her hands, lays them gingerly on her lap. The look in her eyes is reminiscent of the flat, absent look he's seen on her from just beyond her notice. Chat draws her attention away with a silly response.

"Meow lady?"

She smiles, nudges him playfully with her shoulder, mumbles, "Silly kitten."

"You won't make a stray out of me for it, will you?" His tone is unmistakably joking, he knows she would never, but she tells him so anyway.

"As if I could part with you." She grins mischievously, an excellent look on her, "There's no other man in the world who's as fun to tease as you."

"Me-ouch!" He laughs, pretending her words knock him over, "Now what did you want to say to me, my lady?"

Her folded hands fiddle very slightly and her smile falters only to a softened state as she looks at him, "I forget. Don't worry about it."

He's a superhero; patience, he tells himself, patience.

It isn't that Adrien's never heard of this kind of thing but, as stupid as it sounds now, he just never thought it would be the case with someone so close to him. He never expected it to be Ladybug. Doesn't want it to be. 

The sleeves of her suit had been caught in the thick branches of the orchard they'd been fighting in. Having not used her lucky charm against the villain, she summoned it, with some difficulty, and out had popped a pair of spotted scissors. He'd carefully cut off her sleeves to free her, confused by her loud objections at the time, but holding her bare hands now makes it all come horribly together.

She tears her arms away from his grip and he lets her leave, lets her run from him with that same devastated look that's haunted him since he first glimpsed it. The image is now joined, branded, with that of her wrists. Little crescent moons punched scarring into her skin, some red, scabby and fresh, others pink, others white with age, some small, some dragged across her flesh, rough and thick. They bleed easily, the fresher ones, and drops of her blood have colored his gloves faintly above the black. There isn't anyone who would notice but him who looks closely.

He'd wondered many times what caused his lady trouble, what made her so upset in small glimpses. His eyes are wide and he doesn't even realize he's crying until salt water drips to mix with the red on his gloves. Adrien sits down, head between his knees as he cries quietly, hating himself for doing so but his heart aches to burst so the tears won't stop just by wishing. 

How much agony must she be in to dig her fingernails so hard into her wrists that it cut through the skin? How many times must she have done it by the marks she'd had? How long had she been hiding her suffering under sleeves that some scars were already old enough to lose color? How recent that they'd reopened under his shaking hands? How long had she done it all alone?

Adrien feels lost, feels sick, can't bare to dwell on the answers. 

But Ladybug, his lady, is more important than that. 

He had always shied away from expressing the depth of his emotions, hiding behind quiet politeness as Adrien and hiding behind jokes and a mask as Chat Noir. It's scary, it goes against everything his father taught him, to show those parts of him but he doesn't care anymore. Even if it means he is weak, Adrien will show Ladybug how wonderful, lovely, irreplaceable he thinks she is if doing so will ease her burden even a little.

Chat Noir is at their meeting spot early. He sees her on the sky line and takes a deep, nervous breath, hands clenching over and over to dispel the twitch in his fingers. She lands, a guarded glint in her eyes accompanied by a painted smile. She's pretending to be normal, just like last time, but today he's changing the rhythm.

"Good evening, Chat." She says evenly, the false serenity of her smile still in place.

He bows as he usually would, but this time takes both her hands in his. Turning them palms up, Adrien kisses her wrists softly and quickly, hears her startled gasp before she pulls away.

She's clearly shocked, unable to look away from his hands, his bowed knee, as he looks up carefully.

When she finds her voice, it's breathless and stuttered, "W-well, we should get started."

He's never heard her stutter before. Never seen her ears turn so red, flushed up from her partially hidden cheeks. His lady has never reacted that way once to his greetings and that gives him a strange hope that she may yet let him in. It's still a long road ahead, however. Patience, he remembers, patience. 

To him, his lady is the perfect woman and even after learning about more of her, the parts she hates, he still can't find reason to disagree with that opinion. She's still everything he loved about her before, but now he sees even more to love, to cherish the parts she hides in fear, and to help patch the wounds on her heart. The affection he thought could grow no more continues still and Adrien finds he doesn't mind if he drowns in it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are looking up. Adrien becomes better friends with Marinette. Chat Noir seems to have overcome Ladybug's wall. And then everything unravels.

Adrien returns to school from what was easily the most emotionally and physically draining winter vacation he'd ever experienced. Between the influx of holiday stress induced akuma-possessed, being poised in front of the ever watching media at each Christmas and New Year's celebration he was made to go to, the photo shoots no holiday could exempt him from, and the extra lessons his father had seen no reason to relieve for vacation, he was exhausted. He slipped into his desk, laying his head down in the time he had before class. Those that filed in sympathetically passed him over as they greeted one another a Happy New Year and asked about their break. Still, that didn't mean he wasn't expecting a certain someone to disturb his fragile peace.

"Dude, sometimes I think no one in your house actually knows what the word 'vacation' means." Nino claps him on the back, takes a seat next to him, "You look like Hell warmed over."

"I can always count on you for an honest opinion, Nino." He grumbles.

"And y'know what else you can always count on me for? Taking notes for you while you zone out all day like the zombie person you are." He smirks.

Tension relieves from his shoulders, "Pay good attention; I'll have your brains for lunch."

"No way, Alya and Marinette will protect me. Right?" Nino calls behind them and Adrien untucks himself enough from his arms to smile at them. 

The girls who sit behind them have always been an interesting pair and a delight in their own ways. Easily, they are as good of friends as he and Nino, possibly better for how long they've known each other. Alya is a passionate person, highly social, and runner of his absolute favourite website, the Lady Blog. Her zeal for a good story makes him wary of her, given his identity as Chat Noir, but she's an over all kind person with a surprisingly nurturing side for those she's close with. Marinette, on the other hand, is a strange blend of being the sweetest, shy, and adorably charming girl he'd ever seen and being a competitive, sharp-witted, beauty of a leader with hints of potent charisma. She's familiar in a way that draws him in, but he can't place the feeling, only acting on it when an opportunity arises. 

Tired as he is, he's never not been glad to converse with either.

"Junk food is bad for you, Adrien." Alya tuts with a smirk and Marinette giggles.

"Cold, Al, very cold. Marinette, you're still on my side, yeah?" Nino pleads jokingly.

Marinette smiles a little wider, ponders if she should say what she's thinking, "With all the energy drinks you take, I'm sure he could use the pick-me-up." 

"When Z-Day hits, I'm leaving all of you for dead." Nino pouts, "And I only have energy drinks when I need them!"

"Like late night gaming?"

"Or music fests?"

"Or yesterday when you drank one with lunch?"

"Exactly!" Nino affirms proudly.

"Well, how about you share the wealth with poor dead Adrien over there? He looks like he could use one or four." Alya frowns.

"Dad says energy drinks will ruin my complexion. Too strong." He mumbles.

"Well then grab a coffee like a normal human." She suggests.

"This big blonde baby's entire mouth is filled with sweet teeth. Coffee's too bitter for him." Nino cackles; Adrien huffs at him.

Suddenly his phone beeps and he picks it out of his bag to find he's got a shoot at 9 am all of a sudden thanks to a cancellation. He doesn't know if he wants to cry or scream and when Nino asks what's wrong, he just shows him his phone.

The grimace on Nino's face tells them he has choice words for Gabriel Agreste, but he just shakes his head, "I'll get you today's notes. Try and take it easy, okay?"

"Thanks, man. I should be back for lunch, though." Adrien packs his things and hauls his protesting body out of the school. 

He's a little off on his timing; Adrien is dropped back off at school on lunch's tail end. Nino's saved him half his sandwich to eat with the fruit salad provided by the magazine staff and he eats what he can before the warning bell rings. Alya walks into class with a smile and a tea from a nearby cafe that she sips, followed by Marinette who's got a tray with three more cups. One she gives to Nino, who hands her some change, and another she sets in front of him.

Confused, he starts, "Oh! Thanks! Let me, uh, let me get you some money for that."

"No!" She yelps, cheeks red, and seems to scold herself,"It's okay, really! You can, um, think of it as a Christmas present or something!"

Adrien smiles gently, "You already gave me a Christmas present before the break started." 

"Then... then I guess you can just think of it as a gift from a, ah, a friend." She peters off, chews her bottom lip a bit.

Adrien looks at the cup, the lid scribbled on in Marinette's neat cursive in white marker to say 'brains'. He snorts a genuine laugh and opens the lid to smell it.

"Thank you, Marinette! So aside from the brains, what's in it?" He asks, apparently unable to stop the dimpled grin on his face.

She looks a little dazed for half a second before answering, "I-it's a cafe mocha! The barista said it was one of the sweetest caffeinated drinks they had. It's hot chocolate with a shot of espresso and whipped topping with chocolate sauce. I-I hope you like it!"

He takes a slow sip, the espresso adding a buzz to the overall sweetness of the drink and he hums with delight, "Marinette, you're the best, y'know that?"

"Th-thank you! You 're the best! Wait, that's not, um-!" The bell rings and Marinette ends the conversation by heading to her seat.

For the rest of the day, Adrien feels full of energy and he can't say he thinks it's entirely the espresso. That night, on patrol, his day is made even better to find that Ladybug, too, is in a wonderful mood. She smiles brightly, laughs and even when he kisses her wrists in goodbye at the end of another clear loop around the city, his lady surprises him.

A genuine and soft smile, apple cheeks in the cold air, shimmering eyes, her lullaby of a voice speaks to him, "Thank you, Chat. I mean it. Thank you."

She cradles one of her wrists gently in the fold of her hand. His heart thuds like a heavy drum, a pleasant beat against his ribs and he wills no tears to slip out as he beams at her in similar gratitude. His throat is stuck with words that could never compare to the feeling of the ones he just gave him, so he says nothing.

"What's wrong?" She has a laugh in her voice, looking at him, "Chat got your tongue?"

He beams so wide his dimples ache, "I'm not bugging you am I?"

The sun seems brighter, the sky seems clearer, the snow melts more and more as time wears it down. Adrien's happiness is palpable: gaining closeness with Alya and especially Marinette, knowing that he seems to have eased Ladybug's pain, which had seemed so insurmountable months ago. It shows in his photos, it shows in his grades, it shows in his interactions with everyone else, and how the walls of his father's mansion don't seem half as cold when he knows what's outside them. He's able to laugh it off when Plagg says his sappiness ruins his appetite, simply teasing his kwami back since he knows Plagg puts on airs when he's pleased for him. 

Nothing gold lasts.

It happens around test time, when stress in class is all too high. The school board has decided to try out standardized testing, a move most anyone with common sense knows is nonsense, and what better time to begin them than on the cusp of spring, evidently. Nino's never been the best study, not for any lacking on his part, he just tended to put his energies into his interests. It always bit him back when it came to exams, though, so Adrien finds himself studying over frantic material with him between every class he can find the time and every study period they're given. Alya's talent for single minded hard work pays her off plenty in her quest to give up neither the Lady Blog nor her relatively high grades. None the less, it leaves her as less of the sparkling conversationalist she usually is and that leaves Marinette in something of a bind.

It's plain to see that, among the four desk mates, Marinette is taking this test period the hardest. She's by no means not smart, but the first block of tests are all her hardest subjects, not to mention a sudden increase of class presidential duties, and he feels unbidden guilt at this, but his father has begun taking amateur designs for internships next summer and he knows Marinette is dying to get a spot. Adrien can feel the stress pour off of her and wishes there was something he could do to assure her a place, but he doesn't have that power and he somehow knows Marinette wouldn't take it anyway. With Alya on her own personal war path, she can't talk to her and he doesn't know if he's yet close enough to lend an ear.

His father, in lieu of the exams, has laid off on schedule significantly and Adrien thinks wryly that he is currently having more free time than he ever had during winter break. He doesn't have the heart to enjoy it. Things are no better with Ladybug than they are at school.

It's been months since he found out about one of Ladybug's iron-clad secrets. A fear marked by scratches, blood, and scars hidden underneath the sleeves of a red and black suit. Slowly, carefully, he's tried to show his care, to be her support, and he thought it was going well but lately something's been eating at her again. She fidgets when she thinks he's not looking, her lips are chewed and chapped and she speaks less during their meetings. Her eyes, though, they tell him she's on the edge of something and he's scared he knows what it is.

She's been like this a few times before. Her fingers will flinch when he kisses her wrists.

"It's getting warmer these days, wouldn't you say? Spring is in the air! I can't wait for the flowers to start blooming, can you?" He tries, always tries. Each day he can get her to smile is a win.

"Hmm." A distant reply despite her sitting right next to him.

"Of course that means it's also rain season. Blech." He sticks his tongue out, "Nothing worse than a wet cat, you know."

The smile she gives him isn't the one he wants. It's tight, forced, like most of the smiles she's had for the past few days. 

"And now that I think about it, the birds will be coming back soon, too." He groans, "What I wouldn't give for a different allergy!"

There it is. A sliver of a genuine grin that forms on her lips.

"Maybe a pollen allergy?" She quips and, delightedly, he gasps in mock horror.

Even when it's bad, it's not always bad. That's something he makes sure of. Adrien knows he can't do much, can't magically fix everything like her healing light, but he can make her smile. Chat Noir is a port in a storm. 

"Ladybug?" He calls tentatively, now that he's put her in a more accepting mood.

He's got a wild idea in his head, one he knows she'd never go for if it had been a year ago, but things are different now. They're closer, they've grown together, as partners and friends. He takes a deep breath when she looks at him.

"There's been a lot going on lately. Nothing's been very easy and I thought... well, I thought maybe we could keep in contact in case one of us wanted to... to talk." He sees the look on her face, her mouth open to protest, "Hold on! I'm not asking for your identity! I know you don't want to go into that! I know it makes you uncomfortable, so you don't have to know mine, either! I just wanted to exchange numbers, no names. So you can text me or call if you need...someone."

She's silent, looking at him uncertainly, but there's a flicker of want in her eyes, a cry for support, and he can't ignore that.

"I'll give you my number. I, uh, already wrote it down. You don't have to give me yours, but if you ever want to, you can reach me. Is that.. okay?" He asks, half pleading.

He reaches into a zippered pocked, pulling out a folded piece of paper and offering it to her. Slowly, she reaches her hand out, trembling, and without thinking he holds his breath. It's silently released as she takes it, but it's clear she's reached her limit for tonight. She tells him goodbye and rushes off before he can reply.

Marinette doesn't show up at school the next day. 

Alya promises to go over to her house at lunch. It eats him with worry, for a reason he can't pin point, but he knows if anyone is going to help Marinette, he thinks it should be Alya. However, when the darker girl returns from the bakery, her expression is almost unreadable. Partly anger, partly guilt, partly worry. By the end of the day, it's stony and resolved. When Adrien tries to ask her what the matter is, Nino claps a hand on his shoulder and shakes his head. Whatever it is, it's between the two of them. Friday means he won't see them until the weekend is over. 

He glances at his phone. Ladybug has yet to contact him.

The weekend is a fruitless watchful eye on his screen for an unfamiliar number. Almost a blur. 

Monday, Adrien expects relief, but instead a thick atmosphere sinks into his lungs as he sits at his desk. Behind him is unusual silence in the time before class. Usually, Marinette and Alya can be heard chatting, sometimes joined by Nino or himself. He glances back to see both there, so he continues to be confused. The taller of the two, Alya is glued to the screen of her phone, tapping a little harder than necessary and lips pressed into a fine line. Marinette keeps a straight face, but he sees her peek at her friend every once in a while, the only place she seems to look aside from the hard wood of the table. 

Shifting to face ahead once more, Adrien knocks over his pencil and it clatters to the ground. With a minuscule sigh he bends down to pick it up and notices something. Marinette's hands, under her desk, are ringing and fiddling with the wrists of her sleeves, abused fabric under a harsh grip. Her sweater cuffs are long, reaching the middles of her palms, wrinkled by their wearer and, more than likely, creator. Marinette is a girl he's used to reading; her expressions are like an open book, but in the mist of real turmoil, it seems she wears her heart on her sleeves.

Retrieving his pencil quickly, he tries not to think of who that reminds him of. 

Lessons pass by like a heavy murmur thanks to the discomfort in the air. The second the bell rings for break he sees Marinette practically jump from her chair and leave the room. Alya, face stormy, follows after her. It's worrying, to say the least, that these two friends who are easily as close as he and Nino are obviously fighting. Adrien turns to find Nino with a mirrored look to him, frowning.

"You think they'll be alright? Should we follow them?" Adrien's still pretty new to the concept of healthy friendships, especially with newer ones like his with Marinette and Alya, but Nino is practically a professional so he feels no problem asking.

"Nah. Like I said last week, this is between them." Nino replies, "They'll be fine, since it's those two. They act like they've been a package deal since, I dunno, fourth grade. What ever it is, I'm sure they'll work through it."

Adrien nods, assured. Nino's advice has always been solid. 

"Anyway, dude, do you have yesterday's physics homework? I did about half of it before I got sucked into a Game of Thrones marathon. Spot me?" 

Adrien chuckles, "Alright, but you owe me one. Lemme get it."

He reaches into his bag, shuffles through a few papers and feeling Plagg kick him away from where's he's lazing in a pocket. 

"Not here. Right, I've gotta switch my stuff from morning to afternoon classes. One sec, I'll go to my locker!" Adrien grabs his bag and leaves as Nino shoots him a wave.

With everyone gone home for lunch, the halls are quiet and echoing. All he can hear for a little bit are his own foot steps and a far off purposeful stride from somewhere else in the school. The foggy feeling in his chest, like inhaling smoke, hasn't left him even after leaving the room. It stalks him like the sound of his shoes. Foreboding. 

Going passed the stairs, he hears a noise. It's muffled and choppy, so it takes him a moment to realize that it's the sound of someone hyperventilating. 

The reaction is instant, honed from time spent evacuating citizens in the midst of akuma attacks. He listens close for the source, tucked down into the stairwell, and hears a whispering sound along with it.

Whatever made it aside, the person under the stairs speaks, Marinette's voice a panicked and breathless sob.

"I can't." She wheezes, "I can't."

"Marinette?" He calls softly, tentative.

He hears her suck in a gasp, her purse click shut just as he bends to see her in the shadow. Her eyes are wide and ever moving, tears staining her cheeks and skin blotchy from the crying. She's shaking like a leaf in a storm, like it's everything she can do to keep herself from bursting apart at the seams. 

"Cha-" She gulps another forced, uncontrolled breath, red rimmed eyes wild, "Adri-...No, no, no, no, I can't- I'm so-"

Her hands are clamped to her wrists, but her sleeves are pushed passed her elbows. He sees the red under her unpainted nails and dread fills him. He takes her hand without thinking, he can just never think when it comes to her. Stupid, brainless.

It clicks together in the glimpse of her skin that he sees before she rips her arm away, huddles further into the darkness. Her expression and her wrists are sights he can't forget or mistake, even with the perception glamour provided by their miraculous.

Ladybug. Ladybug. His lady, Marinette.

Heavy and fast paced stomps sound toward them and the fear in her eyes is palpable and heartbreaking. He lifts himself up, leans against the banister to block her entirely from view. Alya's gaze feels like a bullet when she turns it on him.

"Have you seen Marinette?" She almost demands.

He feigns innocence and silently thanks God for his experience as a model, "No, I haven't. Doesn't she go home for lunch?"

She huffs, hot air through clenched teeth, "You have my number, right? If you see her, text me."

She leaves in the storm she came with, thunder in her steps that let him know exactly when it's safe to move again. He moves to lean down.

"She's gone. Can I-" 

Marinette bolts from under the stairs and sprints out of the school. Her speed, her gait, they all scream Ladybug and it all leaves Adrien with ringing ears and a spinning head.

Like a machine, he makes his way to his locker like he intended. He grabs the binder just as Plagg sneaks his way into his collar.

"Wanna talk about it?" He asks, uncharacteristically supportive, something Adrien knows means his kwami really is trying to help.

"Later," He responds, "I gotta... I gotta think."

"Are you surprised?" Plagg settles into an inner pocket of the shirt's lining.

"I don't know." He answers honestly, "I'm confused. I'm really not as surprised as I think I should be."

"Well, she's not that different out of the mask, is she?"

Adrien's mind jolts into startling clarity for just a moment.

"No." He half whispers, "She's really not."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was really touched that some people expressed an interest in this story, which was originally intended to be a one shot, and even suggested I write a continuation. I was so scared to post this in the first place because I also deal with my own anxiety and that made this all the more personal, so having such positive feedback really meant a lot to me. 
> 
> Strangle Heart will have at least one more chapter, a total of 4 chapters at most if the story doesn't flow properly with only 3. Thank you for reading this!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time to talk.

There's several things only people very close to Adrien know about him. One of them is that he gets tired very easily; between his heavy work load, obligation to the city, and the fact that depression left him frequently running on no more than 50%, he can hardly appreciate the night since he crashes so early. Another thing is that he is lamentably impulsive. His thoughts can't seem to go through the first half of his brain without him already acting on them. It's something he doesn't usually have to worry about in his daily life since rigid instruction abounds in class and home, but Chat Noir has a lot of decision making to do and he's certain he would've died more than anyone's fair share if Ladybug wasn't there with him.

Which is why he's sure she's going to be extra frustrated with him tonight. Her balcony is plain with his mask in place, the yielding dark of the night beautiful and calming, unlike the caffeine thrumming through his veins. He'd slipped into a coffee shop just before heading here and downed another cafe mocha like Marinette had given him just so he'd have the energy to stay alert during what he suspected was going to be a very difficult conversation. He'd even ordered it with extra espresso, a mistake, Plagg laughing at him as he had chugged it with a bitter expression in an alley. 

He wasn't sure why he thought his kwami would talk him out of it. Plagg never talked him out of anything.

Adrien lands on her terrace with light steps, taps on her trap door without even thinking. Impulsive. Stupid. 

There's no answer.

It's easy to feel alone in costume without Ladybug. He wishes he could ask Plagg if he should try again even though he knows he won't get a decent answer. In the silence, he can almost imagine pristine white marble, cold and familiar. It jars him so much that he taps harder this time. Again, idiotic. His loneliness shouldn't trump thinking of an actual plan and yet...

The hinge creaks quietly. Ladybug's blue eyes peer out at him, guarded and bloodshot. Swollen and on edge.

"Can I come in?" He asks. Dumb. He should've waited for her to speak.

He expects judgement, rejection, but neither Marinette nor Ladybug have ever spurned him like he expects to be. She pushes the door up more, motions him in with cheeks red in a humiliation he can't trace.

Her room is just how he remembers it from training for the game tournament. Soft, deep colors, warm furniture, design papers strewn on her desk. All the light that's on right now is the lamp by her bed, but the dim of the room is no problem for his eyes as Chat Noir.

He looks to her, mouth ready to say something, but taking her in makes his voice stick in his throat. Her pajamas are wrinkled in her grip, the sleeves of her night gown scrunched up to her elbows and make the cuts on her wrists open and visible. Her fingers twitch with the abused fabric and he realizes she's trying not to move them to the delicate scabbed skin. The weight of her posture presses down on him. He can't do this. He isn't good enough to help her.

But even when she's in the dark, his Lady, Marinette, is the light. 

"I'm sorry." She says and doesn't leave room for him to object when she continues, "I haven't... I didn't call you. Or text. I just... I got..."

Her arms tremble, locked around her knees on the loft of her bed. Her fingernails graze the bone on her wrist and flinch away like she's been burned.

"It's okay. I didn't really need to, y'know, unless you wanted to. I didn't mean to make you think you had to." He assures her, but he thinks the effect is tainted by the weakness of his voice. 

Marinette looks at him, carefully observing him, making him shift on her sheets and glance to his thumbs. Whatever she sees must satisfy her because she reaches out and pokes his knee to get his attention.

"Adrien."

His head snaps up, wide eyed, half startled and half awed. 

"H-how did you...?"

"I already knew your phone number. Alya gave it to me a while ago." She shudders a sigh, gaze flitting from the finger tracing on his knee and the thread count of her bed spread, "But then you gave me it as Chat Noir and I... I panicked. I'm sorry. I should've talked to you. Told you sooner."

"Please don't be sorry." He whispers, "I'm the one who should be sorry. You didn't want us to know each other's identities and I pretty much handed you mine on a silver platter like an idiot! Then today at school, all that happened and... I'm sorry. I screwed up everything."

"No, you didn't. You didn't screw up anything. I just..." Another sigh, her voice cracks and her hand draws back to herself.

She covers her eyes, but night vision means he can see her lips screw in a silent sob and a droplet squeeze from the gap in her fingers. He reaches over a claw clad hand and hesitantly places it on her shoulder. He wants to draw her close, wipe her tears away himself, but even though he's never had qualms about personal space before, now he's terrified any wrong move will ruin them both.

She lets out a hollow, choked laugh, "I just can't even imagine how disappointed you must be."

He's dizzy like the words have hit him. She couldn't have said that. She couldn't have meant it, right? The girl who single handedly dug him up whenever his depression hit him hardest, who saved his life in every sense he could think, who was kind and just and whole hearted in everything she did... and she thinks he's disappointed. The thought sinks bitter and cold from his brain and sends a shudder through his body. It's wrong in the worst way and, for once, his impulsive tongue seems correct in taking the lead.

"No!" He insists and her face looks about as shocked as the word sounds. Despite his fears not a moment ago, he inches closer to her and puts his other hand to use occupying her opposite shoulder. 

"I'm not disappointed. I don't know anything to be disappointed about. If anything, I was sure you'd be disappointed in me!" The snort she replies with is encouraging but her shivering has yet to stop, "I'm serious. I mean, sometimes it feels like Adrien and Chat Noir could be two different people entirely. But you and Ladybug... there's almost no distinction besides a mask and a whole lot of gymnastics."

"Not true." Marinette is tense, but there's a hint of a smile on the corners of her lips, "Ladybug's practically flawless. Have you seen those videos on the Lady Blog? All cool and confident... dazzling... it's no wonder Alya's never suspected me, even I don't believe it a lot of the time."

"It's all there. It took me a long time to see it, but you're all those things and more outside the mask. I've seen it all the time. Chasing after Alix that day her watch broke, proving the hat design was yours, trying to be fair when we were filming the movie for the film festival, trying to give your spot in the tournament to Max because you knew it was important to him... it sure wasn't Ladybug who roasted the ever loving hell out of Chloe when she was insulting your great-uncle." He chuckles, "And it wasn't Ladybug who was one short of a unanimous vote for class president. I also don't remember you being in costume during most of the Evillustrator incident. I'll admit, it took me a little longer than it should have to notice, but you're every bit dazzling as Marinette as you are as Ladybug. I promise."

Adrien meant every word, his face inches from her own, the truth of his words warming him as he realized their sincerity and the flush of embarrassment that came with it. He'd already decided, though, long before that any discomfort for him was easily trumped by her happiness. In her big blue eyes, glassy and sparkling to outshine the red rims, he couldn't find an ounce of regret.

"I-" Marinette breathes in deeply, a watery grin to melt his heart all over again, "Thank you, Chat. Adrien. Can I say something? It might sound weird... but I want to tell you..."

"Anything." He presses, breath taken.

"I think you're right about how you act different between Chat and Adrien. But I don't... I don't think that either is bad. I think... I think both sides are amazing. I think you're incredible. That you don't give yourself enough credit, but I get that. It's so hard... I don't know why, but we both seem to have a problem trying to like ourselves." She giggles, nervously, "Oh, no! That's rude... forget I said that! I'm sorry!"

He shakes his head, "Keep going. You're right."

"Oh... well... see, I think you've guessed but I, uh, have a bit of anxiety. About myself mostly... it's not usually a big deal..." She tapers off.

They're both painfully aware of how much she's downplaying. Little red pin pricks stain parts of her nightgown from the cracks in her fresh scabs.

"But when you saw.. y'know.. and then the next time we met you didn't act or say anything like I thought you would... you seemed like you weren't... disgusted? Put off? I don't know. I wasn't sure what to think but then you... kissed my wrists and I just... I realized that I, for both sides of you..." She shakes her head, a hot blush covering her cheeks all the way to her ears. 

Cute, he thinks, cute and curious.

"If it's okay with you," She says after a moment of reassuring silence, "I want to start using your phone number... like you'd suggested, but as friends, too? And you can have my number, of course, and text me or call me when ever you need someone! Or, maybe, just want to talk..."

He's glad he can still hear her from all the way up on cloud nine.

"Absolutely! I'd love that!" He says, all sense of composure gone in joy.

"Great! Good!" She shuffles around, "My number, I'll write it or... wait I'll just text you and you can get it from there, duh."

"Marinette." A tiny voice calls in the darkness.

"Tikki! Um, right, Adrien, this is Tikki. She's my kwami." Marinette hastily introduces them, flitting between them nervously.

"It's nice to formally meet you, Adrien. Is Plagg as hungry as I remember?" Tikki, adorable and red and apparently a million times more personable than his own kwami, flies over to him and waves.

"It's" He swallows, "It's nice to meet you, too. Yeah, Plagg is... Plagg."

She laughs, "That sounds about right. But it's late now, you both need sleep, and since it sounds like you've resolved all the urgent stuff I think it's time to call it a day."

A glance at the clock leaves him blinking in surprise. Tikki's right, it is late and he has work tomorrow. He looks at Marinette, who looking at the clock just as shocked as he is, and down to her reddened wrists.

"Yeah, okay. Just one more thing." He says and leaps softly from the loft onto the carpet, "We gotta bandage those cuts. I'll help."

Marinette flushes, but nods and climbs down to join him. In the brighter light of her bathroom, he cleans and wraps her wrists with gauze. He's not a nurse, but he thinks he's done a good job. Looking at her smile at him, he thinks he's maybe done a good job on more than just first aid. He beams back at her and, just before he climbs from the hatch to her terrace, he takes her hands in his and presses his lips to the white cloth.

Adrien walks into school that day with a sense of peace and calm that makes even his sleep deprivation seem trivial. He packs a few things in his locker and turns to go to class but just about rams into Alya, who looks like she's blinking back tears of frustration, but keeps her gaze steady and resolved. There's that sinking feeling in his chest as he traces her path back to a deserted corridor where, just as he feared, Marinette is hyperventilating on the tile with her phone gripped in her shaking hands.

"Marinette!" He rushes to her side, her wide eyes lock onto him but her panic isn't dimmed.

She drops her phone onto her lap and he takes her hands in his to keep them from trailing back to her wrists. She looks terrified and that scares him, too, but this isn't the time. Even saying so, he can't stop the blood rushing in his ears.

"A-Alya knows!" She almost hisses in her breathlessness, "She said she's gonna tell- she's gonna tell my parents! She can't! They c-can't know! I-I can't handle it!" 

Without another word, he bundles her against his chest and waits for her breathing to even out. What can he say to make her feel better when, in a very rare instance, he doesn't agree with her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In addition to Marinette's anxiety, I also plainly lay out that, yes, Adrien struggles with depression. As I said in chapter one, mental illness is very important to me and a subject I take seriously. I wanted to make it clear that, in this, Marinette and Adrien's relationship is one where they're both trying to help each other rather than one where they poison themselves with codependency or enabling. Marinette hurts herself and Adrien has invasive thoughts, both symptoms of their mental illnesses, but ones they acknowledge and are determined not to solve alone anymore. 
> 
> As for Alya, she is also trying to do what's best for Marinette. She isn't wrong for wanting to get adults involved, especially when they are ones as loving and considerate as Tom and Sabine. While the way she went about it was a little abrasive and a bit clumsy for the situation, I don't expect perfection from teenagers dealing with these sort of complex issues and I've tried to portray that effectively with the kids in the last two chapters as well. I hope it's worked...
> 
> Thank you so much for following this story if you have so far and thank you for picking it up later if you just found it now! I'm really grateful for the outpouring of support I've received from you guys and I promise it's not going unnoticed! I'm very happy with it's reception as it's a really scary subject, no doubt. You've all been very kind!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let go. Breathe in. Look up.  
> Just a step at a time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't even begin to tell you how hard this chapter was to write. The whole thing just kept getting scrapped again and again because the tone wasn't right or it seemed unlikely for a character or just whole sale unrealistic. I like happy endings. I want happy endings for everyone in this situation but the core of this story is set in the reality of mental illness and so it didn't feel right to just "cure" these kids and call it a job well done. 
> 
> So, I'm sorry it took so long for this thing to wrap up, but I'm far more satisfied with how it turned out this way. 
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading. It's been amazing.

There are things in this world that can't be taught by books or teachers. Adrien, having spent most of his schooling within the walls of his own home, feels that concept permeate his life in the past two years and can only testify its legitimacy. No tutor had taught him how to make new friends, no book told him the proper protocol for ordering something at a bakery, and there certainly was never any curriculum unit detailing the balancing of a public and secret identity especially when magic was involved.

Real life experience is the only teacher he could count on, as harsh as the lessons were, and on it he calls as he guides Marinette out of the school and away to somewhere secluded. It had not been a text book that taught him how to calm a panicked soul; it had been his time as Chat Noir. 

"Marinette," He coaxes gently, easing them down on the shadowed grass away from anyone's eyes, her hands still in his purposeful grasp, "Shhh, Marinette. I'm here. There's nothing you need to worry about right now."

She sobs and heaves with her hands in his but laces her fingers with his own. Tentatively, despite intrusive thoughts telling him it's a big mistake, he tugs her toward him and can't help the soft sigh of relief when her head rests on his shoulder and their hands settle in a heap on his lap. With their legs stretched out, he can see her trembling has eased slightly, but that's not quite enough for him.

"We just have to calm down and think. Nothing will happen as long as class is still in. Shhh, we're going to be okay." The words come from some place deeper than he would usually allow himself, branching emotions that he can practically hear his father sneer at, but she's his Lady, like a mantra, his Lady, his Lady. 

Marinette is breathing hard against his collar, a shivering heat, and she hooks her calf over his while she cries and squeezes his hand. He feels the pressure in his heart and he doesn't doubt the grip she has on that, too. He squeezes back, a comfort for her, and rests his own head hesitatingly on top if hers, a gesture for him. That awful part of him whispers he's taking advantage of her for his own loneliness, that the act is not only selfish but weak. With a grimace, he almost moves but, as usual, without even seeming to try, she saves him.

"Is it alright if we stay like this for a bit?" He can't see her face but her voice is trembling with trepidation and a sort of nervous hope.

Warmth blooms from his chest and waters his eyes until he's blinking fast and smiling, "Forever and a bit."

She snorts a small laugh at the cheesy line, but doesn't make a move to leave.

The plan isn't all that extraordinary, at least not by their standards of daring-do in the fields of Ladybug and Chat Noir. Marinette would talk to Alya when lunch started in the empty corridor, explain the things she and Adrien had narrowed down as her worries and point of view, allow for questions and answer to the best of her ability. Adrien would be near by but out of sight since they had no decent explanation as to how the two of them had become so close as to share something like self harm in detail in less than a week. If things got dicey, she could text him for his opinion or even get him to interrupt by saying a teacher had called for her so they could regroup and try again later in the day. 

"You're not doing this alone, my Lady. We're a team, aren't we?" He grinned softly and her nervous expression turned fond at the sight.

"Always, kitty." She replied quietly. 

First period had been wholly ditched, but they had the decency to show up just before second began. While Nino sent him a questioning glance, wondering where he'd been, Alya didn't even bother looking up from her notes; a decidedly good thing, given the blistering look she was giving them. Even with knowing Alya's good intentions, even while agreeing with them to a limited extent, even having planned out with contingencies how they were going to smooth this over, Adrien couldn't help but catch some of the buzzing nerves Marinette seemed to be thrumming with. 

His pen stalled in his hard grip, class lecture far from his mind as thoughts of his partner whirred.

Things wouldn't go wrong. They couldn't. As far as he was concerned, no one deserved to suffer less than his Lady did. However, life wasn't fair and he knew that better than many. If things went south...

No. Stop.

Everything would work out. Even in the worst case he would be there with her. Unless she didn't want him.

This isn't about you. He can practically taste the venom of his thoughts. Not now. Why always like this?

There's a heavy ache on his ribs but resolve even deeper than that. If Marinette was being brave enough to face her demons then he could, too. He had to.

Lunch comes quickly there after. Marinette leads Alya away with a quiet plea to talk and Adrien follows behind a minute later. The second he's around the corner from them, he leans against the wall and brings his phone out of his pocket. There won't be a second she's without him if she needs him. 

"I'm not changing my mind. Your mom and dad need to know." Alya says before Marinette can even begin. Her expression is hard and her voice is even more so.  
"Please, just listen to me!" Marinette's tone is admirably composed given her earlier break down.

"It doesn't matter! I'm telling them after school whether you want me to or not! It's for your own good!" She sounds almost like she's scolding a child and its clear Marinette hears that, too.

Her shoulders square, her eyes spark a hint of the irritation she's feeling, "If it's for my own good, could you please not treat me like it has nothing to do with me? You've never even asked why! Isn't how I feel important at all?"

Alya stills a little at that, reels back just a tad. Her gaze falters slightly and her posture is a trace more accepting when she nods for Marinette to explain.

"I've got problems with anxiety. It started a long time ago but it's gotten worse in the last few years. Everything is overwhelming, Alya! It's overwhelming and so it's terrifying! I get scared and that makes everything... spiral." She breaths deep and continues more quietly, "I can barely control myself when that happens. I end up trying to get a hold of myself, anything to put me back in my body or something. That's how... it's why I... y'know..."

Adrien's heart pulls, aching thoughts of her confession and curdling whispers at the back of his head admonishing him for his ignorance. Not now. 

"After... I think, how would anyone think of me? A basket case who can't even keep it together enough to keep from hurting herself. I think of everyone leaving me because they don't want to deal with me and my problems. I think of how the people I love might walk on egg shells around me because they don't want to be the ones to set me off. Treating me like I'm a toddler or a fool." She glances pointedly at Alya and the girl has the good grace to look a little ashamed, biting her lip in a frown, "Worst of all, I think of my parents blaming themselves. Thinking that it's because of them or that they should have done something or noticed even though I went out of my way to hide it from them. I think of how heart broken they'd be. I don't want to do that to them, Alya. I can't disappoint my parents like that."

Silent tears are again slipping down Marinette's cheeks and she touches a hand over her eyes to cover them much as she'd done during his visit last night. Alya's own eyes are watering, her arms tight against her until she lunges and wraps herself around Marinette to hug her.

"Mari, I'm sorry!" She says, "I didn't mean to make you feel that way or push you like that! I'm just scared... I'm so scared for you... I can't stand to watch you hurt yourself, Mari. You're my best friend! What kind of best friend would I be if I just stood there and did nothing even though I knew! This isn't okay, it's never been okay!"

"I know." Adrien just barely hears Marinette croak out, shivering, "I know. I'm sorry."

Alya and she hold on for a few moments longer, more than enough time for Adrien to wipe away the hot tears that have appeared in his listening. He's such a sap. Too much emotion.

"Marinette," Alya says when they pull apart, "I know this is hard to hear, but I still think we should tell your mom and dad."

"No!" She yelps, fear etched onto her face.

"Nothing will get better if you don't get help! You don't want to keep this going for the rest of your life, do you?" 

"Of course not, I just don't want- they can't! I can't!" Adrien's breath stops when Marinette makes a hard grasp at her clothed wrists. 

Without even thinking about it, he makes his hesitant entrance, the well honed skill of expression making him look as shy and innocent as could be.

"Marin- oh!" He feigns surprise like he hadn't been eaves dropping for the past fifteen minutes, "Is everything okay?"

"Fine!" Marinette blurts, "Did you need something, Adrien?"

He takes his cue, "I was asked to bring you to the art room; the teacher there wants your opinion on something."

"Okay!" She leaps away toward him, hands still clutching her sleeves but her fingernails don't point toward her anymore, "Alya, I promise we'll talk more about this later. Please."

Alya looks like she'd rather like to boot him to the other side of the city but she bites her tongue and nods, finality in her tone, "After school."

However, because of course it does, Hawk Moth releases a new akuma before lunch is even over. School is summarily cancelled for the rest of the day and Ladybug and Chat Noir are up to their ears in villainy. The day is waning in a cloudy, gray sunset when they finally manage to save the victim and restore everything to normal, but exhaustion both physical and emotional has long since made its home in them. 

Hidden in the beams of the Eiffel Tower, they power down and bring snacks out for their beloved kwamis to recharge with. Tikki keeps close to Marinette, patting her cheek in comfort and whispering to her with a gentle smile and cookie crumbs around her mouth. Plagg shows his own form of affection, rolled up in Adrien's hair and eating without a single sly or snarky comment. 

"Do you-" Marinette stops herself, unsure.

"Do I?" He hedges, urging her to continue.

"Do you think I should tell them? My parents? I- How would they react?" She murmurs.

Adrien hums in thought. Truthfully, he's thought she should for almost since he learned of her identity. Marinette's parents are the parents every child should have, in his opinion. There's a spike of longing when he sees them and their warmth is permeating in her home. Despite her misgivings, he thinks they would love her always regardless of what she's going though.

"I think they'd hug you." He answers, "I think they'd tell you it was going to be okay and I think they'd mean it."

Marinette shudders a sigh, eyes deep with thought and dark with the dimming sky.

"I think they'd understand and even if they didn't, they wouldn't give up until they did. I think they'd learn everything they could so they could help you and make you feel safe."

She leans her head on his shoulder, eyes fluttering shut.

"I think they'd talk with you and make a plan with you to start trying to beat this. I think you'd be eating a lot of cookies and drinking a ton of tea." He tilts to rest his own head on top of her's, "I think your dad would still play video games with you and your mom would still ask your opinion on what she's wearing."

Somehow, their hands have again ended up intertwined.

"I think they'd keep loving you with all they had." He blinks as the lights of the tower begin to glow in the night, "I think you should tell them."

He feels more than sees her smile, serene and at peace for the first time in so long. She looks like he feels; like good dreams are on their way.

Later, they go to their own homes. Marinette texts Alya and says she plans to tell her parents herself. Adrien's right, for once, about something and she's unbelievably relieved in her parents' arms even as she cries again for what feels like the hundredth time that day. 

Adrien, alone in his room but for Plagg who sleeps nestled under the lid of a cheese plate, gets ready for bed. It wasn't enough, some part says, but Adrien smiles and rewrites over it with something purposeful. 

"I did good."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The tone or theme I went for in this last chapter was "rest", "relief" or, in other words, the feeling one has after working very hard to exhaustion and finally laying down in a nice soft spot. It's a specific kind of happiness, I think. Not so blinding or bouncy in the sense of joy.
> 
> Anyway.
> 
> No matter what you're suffering, going it alone is never the answer. Talk to someone you trust be it your parents, your teachers, or your doctor. There's help out there. I promise.
> 
> Finally!! Thank you again so much for taking the time to read this! What started off as a little one shot came up more than I ever thought I'd have the guts to write let alone post! The feedback I've received has been so wonderful and heart warming and even relieving! No one's really in this all alone, I think. That's what this has taught me.
> 
> Thank you!!!


End file.
